In Whom We Trust
by Michelle167
Summary: As Beacon Hills goes to hell, Scott discovers that his life was manipulated to bring about a sinister end to the world as we know it. A series finale. Darkfiction, suicide, violence, deaths, character twists.
1. Chapter 1

This fic started off as a way to try and plug some plot holes in my own mind. I've always been bothered by the fact that even after Peter killed Laura (and his healing process was speeding up) that he could only communicate with Derek by lifting one finger(and Derek doesn't see this so it's not to fool him into thinking Peter's can't communicate...only the audience sees the finger) and yet, he (along with his nurse) supposedly lured Laura to Beacon Hills. How was he supposed to be doing all this plotting if he couldn't even communicate? Anyway it sparked an idea. Well, I started writing and it was supposed to be a quick little one shot...low and behold it grew until I had an 8 chapter series finale. It still includes the original idea weaved within it, but it also has plenty of flashbacks that reveal what happens to various characters. This is a darkfiction( no rainbows and unicorns)...Main character...Scott...Character cameos Stiles, Allison, Aiden (with Ethan), Lydia, Derek, and Peter...PRO Peter...ANTI Deaton (...contains mild Scallison, Pydia, Laiden (not really romance but acknowledgement of the pairings)...some character twists (good characters become evil...etc)...suicide and multiple deaths. Rated M.

I do not own Teen Wolf

* * *

IN WHOM WE TRUST

Scott slumped down in the corner, perspiration running over his forehead and down his face. Peter's final words filtered through his brain.

"He's been lying to you Scott...this entire time...he's been lying."

Scott hadn't wanted to believe him, but he couldn't take the chance that the older werewolf was wrong Too much had happened. Too many people had died...Stiles...Allison...Derek...Lydia...all of them...all his friends were gone, and they were never coming back. Scott had to know the truth.

Peter had been the last to fall...his will to survive serving him until the end, where at last succumbed to the final death, he had so often avoided.

"You can't trust him, Scott...you know what to do...how to find out."

The true alpha had strained to hear his final words as Peter struggled to breath...then he was gone, leaving Scott to face the Nemeton alone.

How long had it taken for Scott to trust him...had he really ever gotten to that point? He could not honestly answer yes.

Not that it mattered now...Peter Hale was dead along with the rest of them.

Did Scott really believe his accusation? Or was he trying to fulfill a dying man's wish? Whatever the case might be...his mentor...Deaton...lay at this feet.

* * *

He hesitated as his hand hovered over his former emissary's head. How many times had he done this? Half a dozen? A dozen at best? If Peter had been alive, Scott would have passed the responsibility off to him. Probing people's minds and their private thoughts had never set well with the true alpha.

Scott slowly pressed his claws into the flesh at the back of Deaton's neck. As they sunk in, he could feel his mind began to merge with the vet. Due to his subject's unconscious condition, the images flashed freely and frequently. Scott McCall was flung back into the past.

* * *

Scott was unprepared for the musty smell of earth that assaulted his nostrils. Inhaling deeply, he pushed his senses past his shocked respiratory system and willed himself to focus.

The room was dimly lit, candles sporadically surrounding the perimeter. In the center of the room stood what Scott surmised to be around a dozen people...all dressed in long robes.

"Are you sure this is the only way?"

The emaciated woman's long blond hair was striking in comparison to her malnourished frame. It flourished while she appeared to wither away.

The man to her right nodded. Scott recognized him...it was Deaton.

"According to Silvia, without the Hale line, specifically Talia or Peter, there is no hope of ever restoring the balance."

"Are we going to trust a seer?"

The short balding man shifted nervously from foot to foot. His outburst immediately caught the attention of the woman standing directly at Deaton's right. Her lips drew into a tight line of disapproval.

"The seer does not lie," she retorted, haughtily.

Despite his apprehension, the man cleared his throat and demanded to be heard.

"She may not lie, but if I understand correctly, she's not always right. She's been known to miss it from time to time."

"And what would you know about it...I've been a druid from the time I was a little girl...how long have you been with us?"

The man's mouth dropped open but before he could protest, Deaton intervened.

"Cedric's opinion is welcome here just like anyone else's. What we are considering to undertake may be dangerous, and I for one would like to know what everyone has to say."

The calm in Deaton's voice was not unfamiliar to Scott. It testified to his mentor's fearlessness in the face of danger...a quality that Scott had always admired.

The haughty woman looked offended at the rebuke but kept her mouth shut.

Feeling bolder Cedric continued, "The seer...how can you be so sure she is right?"

"It is true that the seer has missed several predictions over the years...and with increasing intensity over the last few, but the fact that she cited the Hale line is enough for me to believe that this particular prediction is true. We've known for years that their particular line is unique in werewolf circles...something that was not lost on Talia Hale."

"Talia Hale knew?!"

The outburst came from the haughty woman. She seemed to have dropped her grudge against their newest initiate for the moment and was fully engaged in the information coming forth.

"I believe she did. Talia did not share everything with me although I worked diligently to gain her trust. Matters concerning her family was for the most part off limits especially those that dealt with herself or her brother."

"I don't understand...knew what?"

Cedric looked sheepishly from Deaton to the haughty woman, who had again taken on a smug expression towards the man she considered her inferior.

"Knew that her line could produce a true alpha," she said, condescendingly.

Scott furrowed his brow. Suddenly, he wished he could communicate with those in the room, but they were only a memory in Deaton's head. A true alpha was forged from character and will. What did the Hales have to do with it?

"But I thought that a person's character produced a true alpha...that and their will," Cedric, protested.

"Thank you, Cedric," thought Scott.

"That is what we have led the werewolves to believe," Deaton said softly.

Cedric looked around the room. It was obvious to Scott that the little man had been as much in the dark as he was. And it seemed that among those in the room he was the only one.

"...but why lie?" he asked.

Deaton seemed to weigh his words before answering.

"Do you remember the story I told you when you first joined us about the alpha known as Deucalion?"

Cedric nodded.

"His goal is to form a perfect alpha pack. Could you imagine the pack he'd have if he could potentially produce as many true alphas as he wanted?"

Deaton paused allowing the weight of what he had said to sink in.

"He could have an army...not just a pack," Cedric mumbled.

"Exactly," Deaton agreed, "and if he knew an alpha that could produce true alphas, he would not stop until that alpha was producing them for his pack and then he would be unstoppable."

Scott pushed back the questions that flooded his mind as he became engrossed in the conversation unfolding before him. Things were not what he had believed them to be.

"Talia Hale?" Cedric said suddenly, his eyes as big as saucers.

Deaton smiled, "Talia would never join Deucalion...that was not a path she was willing to take no matter what it might cost her...but don't be mistaken...if she had I believe it would have been a disaster."

"And what makes you so sure that she was able to produce true alphas?" Cedric continued.

"She never gave the bite...refused to...that is why I believe that she knew," Deaton answered.

"And the brother?" asked Cedric.

"According to the seer he has the same ability."

"What about her offspring?" the haughty woman chimed in.

Deaton shook his head.

"Talia mated for love...bloodline was not a consideration..sorry to say, her children do not have the same ability."

"Are her offspring true alpha's themselves?"

The thin woman, who had been keeping silent, finally voiced her concern.

Again Deaton shook his head.

"A true alpha can not be born...it's only passed on through the bite and even then it's not a sure thing."

"And now Talia is dead and our hope rests in a half burnt out corpse of a man that isn't even aware of his existence."

The voice came from a darkened corner of the room that Scott had previously overlooked. The old woman shuffled out, her frail body leaning heavily on a twisted cane. Looking back to Deaton, Scott noted that he looked slightly annoyed, yet seemed resigned to allow the woman to speak.

"Never the less it is hope. It will take some time...a long time...but he will recover."

"How long?" the old hag wheezed.

"The injuries are extensive...I can't tell how long it will take or if he'll be in his right mind when he comes to," Deaton explained.

"What do we care whether he is in his right mind or not...he's a mean's to an end...we need his bite not his intellect"

Scott felt himself cringe at her insensitivity. Peter had not been the most scrupulous of people but not even he didn't deserve what Kate had done to him and his family.

"Never the less he needs to be taken care of," Deaton continued, "...the best care possible to speed his recovery. I've already arranged for him a private room and the best doctor available. What I need is someone to keep an eye on him...to let the rest of us know of his progress."

The old woman waved her hand as she shuffled towards the exit. Was she dismissing herself? Or was she dismissing them? Scott couldn't tell.

"Choose whoever you want...I leave the details to you...you can let us know of your progress as you go," she said.

Quickly, one by one, the rest of the group followed her out until Deaton was let alone with a young dark haired woman.

"I'll do it," she said, "I'm a registered nurse."

Deaton smiled and nodded.

"Let's discuss the details above ground," he said as he took the young woman by the arm and led her out.

Scott recognized her. She was Peter's nurse.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

"That can't be right," he thought in protest.

Peter's nurse had been a druid and Deaton had assigned her to watch over the comatose Hale.

The realization left Scott reeling.

Had it all gone wrong somehow? Had she betrayed the rest of Deaton's group in favor of the alpha? Or was it worse...everything had gone as planned?

His mind whirled.

Momentarily, he lost his focus...he could feel his claws slipping from the back of Deaton's neck.

"Snap out of it," he thought as he forced himself to concentrate.

Pressing deeper, he connected with Deaton's memories...searching for the one he believed would give him the answers he was looking for.

* * *

'He's not able," the woman stated plainly.

"How close is he?" Deaton asked.

Peter's nurse was still dressed in her uniform. Scott noted the twitch in her lips as she answered Deaton.

"He's not even coherent. He shifts, yes...but he's little more than a wild raging beast at this point."

Deaton sighed and walked towards the window of his office.

"I had hoped he would recover faster than this...it's been six long years."

"He's come farther than any human would have, but you wanted the truth, and all I can tell you is that he's not ready...He isn't even aware of his own existence."

Scott recognized Deaton's expression...he was contemplating something...weighing the pros and the cons.

"Maybe we don't need him to be aware," the vet replied.

"What do you mean?" the nurse asked.

Deaton reached into his desk and rummaged through some papers. Finding the right one, he pulled it out, looked it over and handed it to Peter's nurse.

"I need you to send this to Laura Hale...just the picture...nothing else."

"But it's just a picture of deer with a spiral drawn on it...I don't see.." the nurse started.

"She'll know what it means and she'll believe it's from him," Deaton interrupted.

He scribbled on another piece of paper and handed it to her.

"This is her address. When she does come she'll go to the Hale house. That's where you are to bring him."

"I don't understand," she said, shaking her head.

"He'll be able to smell it on her...that she's an alpha...instinct will take over and in his state he should take her out quickly. She won't be expecting it."

"Are you sure?" she asked, "He is still just a beta...an injured one at that."

"He's just started to shift after 6 years of not being able to...you said it yourself...he's little more than a wild raging beast...at this point more wolf than man. He will attack and he will win and we'll be one step closer to our goal. We'll have an alpha that can potentially produce a true alpha."

Scott noted the twitch of the nurse's lips again. His gut told him she was not entirely on board with Deaton's plan, nevertheless, she accepted the papers, folded them and placed them in her purse.

"I'll do as you ask Deaton but this better work. If Laura Hale kills Peter this will be over before it begins."

"Thank you, Beverly...and it will work," he replied.

Deaton turned back to the window, seemingly dismissing the nurse. Quietly, she strode out of the veterinarian's clinic and into the cold night air.

* * *

"Scott it was for a good reason."

The whisper brought Scott back to the present. Deaton was stirring...begging even to be released, but Scott's claws were firmly embedded in the back of his neck. The young werewolf was now glad he had bound Deaton's hands and feet. Who knew what kind of damage a druid could do when they put their minds to it? Reaching out with his free hand, he grabbed the syringe filled with Sodium pentothal and quickly, injected the veterinarian.

"Scott...don't...please...just let me explain," Deaton mumbled.

"You are explaining," Scott said, flatly.

He was surprised at the deadness in his own voice. Was he being too hard on him?

"Let it go," he thought, "The time for leniency is over...you have to see this through.

While Peter may have been able to break through Deaton's attempts to fight him off, Scott could not.

"All you need to do is practice more."

Peter had said it to him many times and Scott had blown him off more often than not. His protests of it being uncomfortable had been met with rolling eyes, a sarcastic comment, and the older Hale storming off.

Right now he wished he had listened. His lack of experience would mean he would have to wait. His mind began to wander as he waited for the injection to take affect.

* * *

"It was me, Scott...you know it was me...you saw me," Stiles whispered.

Scott was shaking. His best friend lay sprawled out before him, blood pouring out of several knife wounds running the length of his arms.

Scott wondered how he could have caused so much damage.

"I don't believe it...you wouldn't do those things, Stiles...you wouldn't...I don't believe it was you," Scott protested. His voice was shaking as badly as his hands.

"Don't deny it buddy...you saw me." Stiles offered a painful smile and Scott felt the sting of hot tears streaming down the sides of his cheeks.

Yes, he had saw Stiles...Stiles with a knife...Stiles with the empty vacant stare...Stiles using the knife...again and again. How many dead? Scott couldn't remember. He didn't want to remember...he wanted to deny...to deny everything. It couldn't be Stiles...not his best friend...not his brother.

"It was me, Scott," Stiles whispered again, "Couldn't live with it."

Scott looked down at Stiles as the blood began to form pools on the ground around him. Instinctively he reached out and pressed against his wounds in a futile attempt to quench the bleeding.

"We'll get you to the hospital, I swear...you're going to be alright."

"It was a wild ride wasn't it?" Stiles smiled weakly.

Scott lowered his head. He was openly sobbing now.

"We'll get you to the hospital...you'll be fine," he protested.

"Let me go Scott...it's time...let me go."

"No...I can't...you're my brother...we're brothers Stiles!"

"Always," Stiles mumbled, "but even brothers have to let go...let me go, Scott...it'll give me peace...do it for me."

Scott slipped his hand into Stiles hand and squeezed. He had lost his will to speak. He simply nodded in response.

"Thank you, Scott" He's words faded away as he eyes glazed over.

Scott didn't resist as he was pulled away...further and further from the scene. He could see Stiles dad screaming as he approached the body of his dead son.

"Stiles...Son...oh God...no!"

But Scott had gone numb. Everything was a blur.

Days came and went and Scott remained the same. The funeral came and all his friends were there...Allison...Isaac...Lydia...Danny. Even Derek and Peter came although they kept their distance choosing to remain at the back of the crowd.

One thought dominated his mind...where's Stiles?

When he peered into the casket then he remembered. Stiles was gone and he wasn't coming back.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Scott flinched to hold back the tears.

"It was like it happened yesterday," he thought.

But it had been two years ago, not long after the Nemeton had been reactivated. He, Allison and Stiles had all been affected, but for Stiles it was worse. When the murders began, he became convinced that he was the killer.

"Why Stiles?" he wondered, but deep down, Scott knew.

Stiles couldn't live with himself thinking he had killed all those people. Ending his life seemed the only way out. He died thinking he was responsible, but he was wrong. The nogitsune had taken his shape...the nogitsune had possessed his mind...the nogitsune had been the murderer and Stiles had paid for it.

Scott swallowed hard. The memory seemed too fresh. He didn't want to dwell on it.

"No," he said to himself as he looked at his former mentor, "...better to focus on someone else's memories."

Pushing the thoughts of Stiles from his mind, he refocused on a now unconscious Deaton, searching through his mind for anything that might lead him to the truth.

* * *

"We have what we need...we don't need Hale anymore...he's collateral damage," Deaton stated.

"Like Beverly was?"

Scott recognized the thin woman from the druid meeting.

"Beverly knew what she was getting into, Abbie. She said herself that Peter was little more than a wild raging animal. She knew the risks."

"Perhaps we are moving too quickly," the balding man piped up.

Scott noted that over the years Cedric had gained a sense of confidence that had previously been absent.

Deaton grunted.

"As I said...we have what we need...Hale is dangerous and expendable," he reasserted.

"You can't even be sure this boy will become a true alpha," Cedric countered.

"He will," Deaton affirmed, "I see it in him."

"And what if something happens to him...the hunters are heavy in Beacon Hills...and there are other packs out there. Even if you're sure he'll become a true alpha, you can't be sure he'll survive long enough to do for us what needs to be done," Abbie interjected.

The thin woman waved her arms around as though she were giving a great oratory speech.

"He'll survive and he'll complete what needs to done," Deaton said, unflinchingly.

"Nevertheless, the council has voted to keep Hale alive...for obvious reasons," Cedric interrupted.

It was the first time Scott had ever seen Deaton genuinely look furious. It occurred to Scott that at least in Druid circles, his mentor was not used to being questioned.

Taking a deep breath, he contained his fury and nodded at the two.

"Of course...I don't agree...but I'd never go against the council."

The answer seemed to satisfy the two as they retreated from the clinic leaving Deaton alone. He reached for the phone and Scott was surprised when he heard his own voice on the other side. It was the day that Deaton had told him that Peter's nurse had been the one who took the picture of the deer...the day that he ensured that Scott would tell Derek and in turn ensure that Derek would kill Peter Hale.

* * *

Scott managed to keep his calm as he digested the new information. Everything Deaton had done was to move Scott forward into becoming a true alpha. Every plan...every decision...every move that Deaton had influenced Scott to make was all to the end of bringing out the true alpha spark that had been birthed in him through Peter's bite, but to what end? Why did the druids need with a true alpha?

"To restore the balance," thought Scott as he recalled Deaton's earlier memory.

Scott furrowed his brow and looked around him. How was he supposed to do that? Beacon Hills was a mess, overgrown with giant vines and wild trees. Supernatural creatures ran rampant. It hardly even resembled a town at all anymore. The people that could leave were gone...those that couldn't were dead and Scott was left alone trying to figure out what went wrong. What was he supposed to do now?

* * *

"It'll be alright Scott."

"Allison?" Scott whispered.

It was only in his mind. Allison was gone...she had been gone almost as long as Stiles.

Though painful, the memories offered some comfort in the midst of his confusion.

They had gone their separate ways for a short time...she with Isaac...he with Kira. That all changed after Stiles death. Kira left Beacon Hills and Isaac and Allison began to drift apart. Scott found himself in Allison's company more frequently, and with time, they found each other again. Once again Allison became Scott's anchor...not an anchor for the shift...but an anchor of the heart. Without her Scott didn't think he would have made it through Stiles passing. Unfortunately, their reunion was brief and once again he found himself struggling to continue on. The darkness was swallowing up Beacon Hills as the Nemeton called out to the supernatural and Scott was losing hope.

She had been missing for nearly a week when they found her. Scott didn't even remember what particular creature they had been tracking when her body was discovered...there had been so many. He did remember the expression plastered on her motionless face. Strangely, it was one of peace. The coroner had said her neck had been snapped, but Scott avoided asking if that meant she died instantly or if she had suffered. He simply did not want to know.

Kneeling next to her he had quietly stared. He mourned the fact that he didn't get to say goodbye.

Reaching out he grazed the tips of her fingers with his fingertips as if he thought the act would bring a response. It was met only with the cold unyielding touch of death. Scott pulled away and swore he could hear her voice gently drifting down from the treetops.

"It'll be alright Scott."

Those were the words she had whispered to him at Stiles funeral...the words he recalled when she died...the words he heard now as he pondered the truth behind Deaton's lies. Even now she was being for him an anchor...and anchor of hope.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Scott balled his free hand into a fist to keep from losing it. Allison wouldn't want him to give up.

"She'd want me to keep fighting until I got the answer," he whispered to himself.

"I can't give in," he thought, "I have to keep going."

Scott closed his eyes and felt his mind merge with Deaton's as he continued his search.

* * *

"You don't seem too happy about Peter Hales return from the dead."

Cedric munched on a jelly filled donut as he conversed with the veterinarian.

"You know my feelings about it. We don't need Peter Hale...we have our true alpha."

The small brown puppy Deaton was attending looked up at the two men, a quizzical expression crossing his face. His ears flicked back as though he was straining to hear their every word.

"And yet your protegé has shown no signs of being an alpha of any kind...Hale may be needed yet," Cedric answered.

Deaton cut a curious look at the short balding man.

"Peter Hale is unpredictable and uncontrollable. Do you really think if Scott fails to reach his full potential that Hale will help us? Even if he were to become an alpha again, he'd never let us near his betas, especially if he knew they could potentially become true alphas.

"He helped us before, albeit, unwillingly. With the proper plan, I'm sure we could get the results that we wanted. Surely you can see that his resurrection is for the best."

Cedric gave an almost comical wave of his hand and for a moment, Scott thought the round little man was going to fall over. Quickly, he steadied himself against the edge of the table and looked earnestly to Deaton for his response.

"If that's what the council thinks, I won't argue with them," Deaton replied, ignoring his visitor's failed attempt at dramatics.

"Well it is what the council thinks," Cedric answered, striding towards the exit, "I guess we're in agreement then. You might try extending the olive branch towards Mr. Hale, Deaton. Try being nice to him. You know like the old saying...more flies with honey."

Deaton let out a loud sigh as Cedric left.

Scott could see the wheels turning.

Deaton couldn't extend an olive branch to Peter. His information...the false information that he had given to Scott about the picture of the deer was the reason Peter had been killed by Derek in the first place. Deaton knew what Scott knew...Peter could smell deception on people. He couldn't take the chance that the former alpha would piece everything together.

Deaton reached down to the puppy that was resting on the table and ruffled it's fur.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked the pup.

Barking happily, the puppy thumped it's stubby little tail on the table.

Deaton gave a weak smile.

"Wish I was. See, little pup, I've got a problem. I have a lot I can teach Scott and as long as he needs teaching...he needs me, but I'm no werewolf. Peter Hale is...he can teach Scott things I can't and even some that I can. I can't allow that...I can't allow Scott to be influenced by someone else...by someone else that may lead him down a different path. Plus there are things I can't allow Hale to find out about...No, I've got to keep him away from Scott."

Deaton paused deep in thought. Whimpering, the puppy looked up hopefully waiting for attention.

"Scott would never let him into his life if it was just him...but if Derek was with him...that might be another story. No...my best bet is to ensure that Derek doesn't trust Peter...that they keep their distance from one another. That way when Derek finally joins Scott it will be without Peter."

Deaton ran his hand over the puppy's back and was rewarded with a little high pitched yelp.

Deaton laughed.

"I guess we're in agreement then," he replied.

* * *

Scott searched his own memory looking for a connection and with a little effort he found one.

"He said he promised my mother he'd look after me," Derek said.

"And that bothers you?" Scott replied.

"He hasn't looked after me before...why now?"

Derek's words had stuck with Scott. A red flag had gone up and he had ignored it, but not now...not this time.

Scott's mind recalled the rest of the conversation.

"He said that Peter would claim he was the only one that could stop Gerard, but that I wasn't to trust him."

"And that bothers you...you don't trust Peter anyway."

"But his offer wasn't to help stop Gerard...it was to save Jackson...and he actually came through," Derek replied.

"So now you trust him?" Scott asked incredulously.

Derek shook his head, "No, but it doesn't mean he isn't right...that we need each other."

This had been Deaton's attempt to keep the Hale's seperated...a way to keep Scott dependent on Deaton for guidance and keep Peter from finding out the truth about the druids plan.

He had evidently underestimated the Hale family bond...despite his attempt and the mistrust that already existed between the uncle and his nephew Deaton's plan had failed. Regardless of the tension, the two continued to grow closer in their dysfunctional bond.

That had not proven to be the case for the some of Scott's friends and their families. Separation came much more easily and much more frequently.

* * *

"Mom, why are you crying?"

Scott sat down next to her and put his arm around her.

"He's gone...he's really gone, and he's not coming back."

Scott flinched as he remembered his mom's pain.

After Stiles death, the sheriff had tried to remain in Beacon Hills. He did his best to have a good relationship with Scott's mom but old demons resurfaced. Finding more solace in the bottle than in Melissa's arms, he deteriorated. Scott found himself comforting his mom almost nightly, as she cried herself to sleep.

After three months, the sheriff finally left Beacon Hills. Two years later and no one had heard anything more from him. He had simply disappeared.

Chirs Argent had been the next to leave. After Allison's death he didn't waste any time. Scott couldn't blame him...he's lost almost his entire family in Beacon Hills. Occasionally, Scott would get a postcard letting him know that he was still among the living. Scott wondered why he bothered, but he justified it in is mind that Chris Argent was simply reaching out to the only person left alive that cared about Allison as much as he did.

Isaac also left shortly after Allison's death. Scott believed her passing had affected him more than he was willing to admit and that perhaps he still carried a torch for her. Regretfully, Scott had not heard from him since his departure.

Separation from friends...from family...and continual deaths..the Nemeton had left its mark...everything had gone to hell.

Scott's mind began to drift further away from his goal...the dark place beckoned. He attempted to pull back, but it's pull was too strong and overwrought, Scott followed.

* * *

Scott felt the strength of his pack...Ethan, Aiden, Lydia, Derek, and Peter.

They were moving on the edge of the preserve towards the last place the Puechen had been sighted.

"Drat, I think I broke a nail," Lydia said breaking the silence.

"Did we have to bring her?" asked Peter, rolling his eyes.

"Did we have to bring you?" asked Aiden.

Peter leered at Aiden.

"Enough..." Scott half whispered, half shouted, "The Puechen will hear us and we'll lose the element of surprise."

"If it hasn't already heard us, it's deaf," offered Derek.

Scott looked over at him.

"What?...it's sounds like we're on a stampede," he explained.

"Does a flying snake have ears?" asked Ethan.

"Oh God...are we actually having this conversation?" asked Peter.

"It's an honest question," Aiden chimed in.

Aiden took a step towards Peter and Scott realized he was going to have to intervene.

"Okay, that's enough...everybody...let's just keep looking and keep quiet."

The group again began to move forward.

Scott realized that keeping Aiden and Peter from going after each others throats would be as big of a concern for him as finding and killing the Puechen.

Aiden wasn't blind. Despite the fact that Lydia and Peter usually exchanged nothing but insults, it was obvious there was something more there. Scott wasn't convinced that it was of a romantic nature, but he wasn't convinced that it wasn't either. He was also sure that Aiden felt threatened by whatever it was.

"Wait did someone say this was a flying snake?" Lydia asked suddenly.

Peter stopped dead in his tracks.

"Why me?" he muttered under his breath.

Aiden was in his face in an instant baring his fangs. Peter's eyes glowed blue as he glared at the younger werewolf.

Scott pushed his way back to them and pressed in between the two.

"If you two want to tear each other to pieces do it on your own time. We're here to get a job done!"

Scott didn't bother keeping it down. Derek was right. If the Puechen could hear, it already knew they were here.

"I don't like snakes," Lydia offered.

It was though she was completely unaware that two werewolves had almost come to blows over her.

Aiden and Peter looked at Lydia dumbfounded.

"Lydia, you can handle this...you've handled worse," Scott encouraged.

Lydia looked up and thought for a moment.

Confidently, she said, " You're right...I can."

Shaking his head, Aiden backed off and moved to the front of the group with Derek leaving Peter in the rear with Lydia and Ethan.

Scott looked at Peter, "Just try and get along...okay."

Peter shrugged and motioned for Scott to lead the way and again the group moved forward.

Scott heard a commotion and all hell broke loose.

The Puechen was fast...faster than Scott had imagined.

Derek ducked as the snake flew overhead. It barely missed him. Aiden dodged to the left and rolled through the heavy brush.

"Scott, get down!" Ethan yelled.

Scott ducked as the creature took a second pass at the group. It missed him by mere inches.

The snake swung to the back of the group making a bee line for Lydia. Scott saw her mouth open but the scream never came...Peter knocked her and himself out of the way causing the snake to miss it's prey.

Derek came up next to Scott.

"Gerard's sword...where is it?" he asked.

"Here...I've got it," Ethan said as he came up on Scott's other side.

Taking the sword, Derek flung it towards the snake as it made it's next pass.

Scott was shocked when it actually hit it's target cutting off the tip of it's tail. The creature hissed and turned on the three.

Baring down, it flew straight for them. There was no way they could all escape. Scott held his breath in preparation for what was coming and then...nothing. The creature stopped mid air and fell to the ground...one half to the right...the other to the left. Only Aiden was left in it's path with Gerard's sword in hand.

"Never stood a chance," Aiden said as he broke out in a silly grin.

Ethan laughed in relief.

Scott let out his breath as he relaxed.

Derek patted him on the back and smiled.

Lost in the thrill of their quick victory, they didn't hear the hiss until Aiden's body had been yanked from the ground.

"Aiden!" Ethan yelled as he ran after his brother.

But Scott knew it was too late...he could hear the scream...the scream of the banshee...Lydia's scream...someone was about to die.

When they found Ethan he was hovering over his brother's body sword in hand. The second Puechen lay dead at his feet but his brother wasn't breathing.

"Maybe he'll heal," Ethan said.

Scott's eyes filled with tears. He could already feel Aiden's power fading from his own. He knew Ethan sensed it too.

Scott shook his head as Derek looked away.

"Wishful thinking," Ethan said. He lowered his head and wept.

Lydia approached cautiously. The banshee was now silent. So much loss...first Stiles, then Allison. Scott saw his own expression reflected in her face...one of shock, numbness, and an incredible sense of emptiness.

In the weight of her grief, she began to collapse only to be caught be Peter as he rushed from behind. Sobbing, she welcomed his embrace as he tried his best to comfort her.

Except for the sound of Lydia and Ethan's weeping the woods were silent. Scott didn't know how long they stayed. Time seemed to slow down. He wasn't even aware that the sun was setting until he heard Peter whispering to Lydia.

"Lydia...it's time to go...let me take you home."

His voice was uncharacteristically soft and Scott knew he would do his best to take care of her.

Gently, Peter led Lydia away, leaving the rest of the pack alone.

Scott pulled Ethan back from his brother.

The werewolf let out a howl for his twin and Scott nodded to Derek for help.

"We need to move him out of the preserve, Ethan," Scott said softly.

Ethan looked back to Scott and then to Derek and nodded.

"Okay," he said hoarsely.

Gathering up Aiden's remains the group walked solemnly out of the forest.

The funeral was simple. The twins had no relatives...just friends and the pack, so Scott had said a few words for Aiden. Ethan had clung to Danny for most of the service. It reminded Scott of how Allison had looked after him when Stiles had died. After the funeral, Ethan announced that the two of them were leaving Beacon Hills for good. Scott was not surprised. He hadn't heard from them since.

Although Lydia's swollen, pale face told the story of several tear filled nights, she shed few tears during the service. Scott caught her searching the crowd several times and correctly surmised she was looking for Peter. It was only when she spotted him that she seemed to relax. Whatever it was that was between them Scott had a feeling that it was providing an anchor for Lydia.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

Scott felt the same emptiness invading his soul as when Aiden died.

"I need to stop doing this," he thought, "Focus on Deaton's memories...not mine."

He was barely holding it together as it was.

Pressing further, he searched Deaton's memories all the while doing his best to resist the urge to get lost in his own.

* * *

The old woman wobbled just into the edge of the door of the clinic.

"Maggie," Deaton said diplomatically, "Come in."

"I am in," the old hag cackled.

Deaton lifted an eyebrow in response to her sarcasm.

"What can I do for you, Maggie?" he asked.

"The Darach," she stated plainly, "Why haven't you dealt with her?"

"Short answer...we need her," Deaton responded.

"Humor me then with your long answer because that isn't good enough," she retorted.

The vet sighed and Scott could literally feel his boss's frustration.

Deaton cleared his throat.

"Isn't it obvious...each step she takes is one step closer to reactivating the Nemeton."

"And yet in the end she will fail. That binding ritual was put in place for a reason. Those sacrifices may give her power temporarily, but she'll never bring the Nemeton back to life."

"The Darach is not aware of that," Deaton protested.

"And yet you allow her to continue sacrificing innocent people as though she could succeed...why allow so many people to die? By doing nothing we are as guilty as she."

Scott wondered where the woman had found her sensitivity over the years.

"While that may be true, sometimes such sacrifices are neccessary...besides, I don't believe her actions are in vain," Deaton replied.

"Explain," the woman said dryly.

"The seer has given us the pattern she will take...the last three are the guardians. What has been foreseen is that one of the guardians will be Scott's mother."

The woman furrowed her brow and narrowed her eyes.

"The mother of the boy you rest all your hopes on?"

"The same...and if I know anything about Julia, I know she won't kill her until she has the other two in her possession as well. That will give us...an opportunity."

Deaton crossed the open counter out into the lobby to move closer to the older woman.

"The ritual," the woman whispered.

Deaton nodded.

"If everything goes according to plan we should be at the end of our journey...our goal will be achieved."

"Has the boy shown any sign of being a true alpha yet?" she asked, "Something...anything...a flash of red in his eyes?"

"Not yet...but I have a plan...and perhaps that is why you need to leave," he answered.

"Why is that?" she asked.

"Because the birds are coming," Deaton replied with a smile.

* * *

The birds came when Jennifer took a victim for sacrifice. They came for Deaton, but Deaton had not been a sacrifice...he had been a test...one which Scott had passed. In the process of trying to save his mentor, Scott eyes had briefly flashed red and Deaton had his answer. Scott was indeed becoming a true alpha. Manipulation and deceit...did Scott really know this man that lay at his feet? Scott breathed deeply as he processed the latest information. His mind once again began to wander.

* * *

Lydia had insisted on coming in spite of Peter's protests.

"I'm not that fragile," she insisted, "and I am certainly not afraid of a cow!"

"It's a Bonnacon, Lydia and it's not just some cow," Peter replied.

"I don't care...I need to do something...I can't just sit around anymore...It's been 2 months since...since Aiden died."

Lydia choked on the last words and Scott cringed. He knew what she was going through. He had gone through the same thing with Allison. She was right about keeping busy...it was the only reason he had agreed to let her come in spite of Peter's objection.

"Lydia..."Peter started.

"I'm going and that's that!" she insisted.

A look passed between the two and again Scott's curiosity was peaked. Uncomfortable, Scott looked away. Whatever vibe was there, it was personal.

Thankfully, they were interrupted by the revving of a car engine. Derek had arrived.

"I have no idea how to catch a cow but I brought some rope," he said as he leapt out of his car, rope in hand.

Peter rolled his eyes, "It's a Bonnacon...am I the only one that even researches these things anymore?"

"Pretty much," Scott agreed.

"Is there anything we need to know?" Derek asked.

"Yeah...stay clear of what it's digested," Peter answered smugly.

Derek laughed.

"You kidding right?" he replied.

"Actually...no...it's acidic...burns like fire," Peter answered dryly.

Derek raised his eyebrows, but the look of amusement never left his face.

* * *

The rope held. The Bonnacon was down and no one had been hurt, but the creature was crying out incessantly.

"What are we supposed to do with it now?" asked Derek.

Derek and Scott were looking at Peter.

"Why are you looking at me? I don't know...it's a cow!"

"A Bonnacon," Lydia corrected.

Peter groaned.

"It's making too much noise," Scott complained.

"What do you suggest'" asked Peter "...we gag it?"

"Would it help?" asked Derek.

The creature's cries were getting louder.

"Peter?"

Lydia was looking around frantically at their surroundings.

"What?" Peter asked slightly annoyed.

"You're not listening...none of you are listening..."

Her voice trailed off into a whisper as the group fell silent.

Whatever was coming was closing in fast.

"Let's get out of here...we don't know what we may be dealing with," Scott stated.

"What about the Bonnacon?" asked Derek.

"Leave it...if it gets loose we can catch it again," Scott replied.

The group had turned to leave when as one, they all froze. The Bonnacon had suddenly been silenced, its cries tapering off into a mournful wail.

Derek was the first to move followed closely by Scott. Not knowing their enemy made them vulnerable. If they couldn't fight it, they had to outrun it. Scott swore under his breath. He now wished he had sided with Peter and made Lydia stay at home. She wasn't as fast as the rest of them.

Glancing behind him, he realized no one was there.

"Derek!" he called out, "Wait."

Derek stopped and turned around and looked curiously behind them.

"Peter!" Scott called out, "Lydia!"

The two werewolves went silent and carefully listened for their companions.

Softly, for werewolves ears only, came the words, "You need to come back."

Scott looked at Derek and breathed deeply. They hadn't planned on a second fight but it looked like they were going to get one.

They made their way back to the clearing.

Peter stood in the center, shielding Lydia from the creature. It was one that was familiar to Scott...one that was familiar to them all. The kanima scurried up the tree and flicked its tail.

Scott wondered if it had a master.

Derek and Peter were in the greatest danger since they had taken innocent life, but he and Lydia were not safe by any means.

"Peter...just back away...maybe it'll leave," Scott whispered as he circled behind the older werewolf followed closely by Derek.

Peter shook his head, "I can't," he replied.

That was when Scott realized that Peter wasn't shielding Lydia at all...he was holding her back from going to the creature.

"Why doesn't he just let her go?" Scott whispered to Derek, "She can disable him without getting near his claws."

Derek shook his head, puzzled.

"Lydia?" Scott asked getting her attention, "Lydia...use your scream...finish him...finish the kanima."

Lydia was shaking her head.

"Jackson?" she whispered.

And then Scott understood. She thought the kanima that stood before them was Jackson.

"Lydia...that's not Jackson...he's in London," Scott explained.

Lydia smiled weakly at Scott as tears ran down her face.

"It's Jackson," she whispered, hoarsely.

She pressed forcefully into Peter's back as he continued to struggle against her in an attempt to keep her from rushing forward.

"Lydia, please..." Peter pleaded desperately.

"It's okay," she said, "Everything's going to be fine...he won't hurt me."

"Lydia that's not Jackson," Scott stated firmly.

While they wrestled with Lydia, the creature had taken the opportunity to move closer to the group. Peter never knew what hit him. The kanima sliced his claws into Peter's left shoulder and instantaneously he was down, leaving Lydia free to face the kanima alone.

Scott tried to grab for her, but was too slow. She slipped through his grip, leaving him with nothing more than a small piece of cloth ripped from her blouse.

"Jackson!" she repeated.

A smile spread across her face as she charged forward.

The kanima's claws ripped up it's attacker's torso in a single blow. Before Lydia's could scream, a second blow came, slashing the banshee's vocal cords along with her throat. As her body dropped lifelessly to the ground, the kanima retreated and ran scurrying off deeper into the preserve.

Scott fell to his knees. It had happened all so fast...too fast. He tried to speak but nothing would come.

Reaching out, Derek tried to help Peter up as he roused from his paralysis. The older Hale pushed his nephew away, opting instead to crawl over to where Lydia's body lay. Softly, he began to stroke her hair as though he were trying to put every strand in place.

"Lydia would approve," Scott thought, "She would be mortified if her hair was a mess when the ambulance came."

The odd thought combined with the soft weeping now coming from Peter Hale sent Scott over the edge. It was too much...Scott began to cry hysterically.

Derek attempted to comfort him but it no avail...Scott's cries quickly turned to screams.

* * *

Scott didn't remember leaving the preserve. He didn't remember when the paramedics arrived.

But now all he could do was stare helplessly as they loaded Lydia's lifeless body into the ambulance.

He was shock. His mother drew him close into her arms to sooth him, but he simply wasn't there.

"You riding with the ambulance now?" asked Derek.

"Not a lot of people left in town...we're stretched thin...I volunteered," answered Melissa.

Derek glanced at Scott.

"He'll be all right...won't he?"

Melissa kissed Scott on the head.

"He's in shock...give him some time...it just that this is too much...for anyone."

Derek looked around and then back to Scott's mom.

"It's the hand we were dealt," he said flatly.

"Maybe it's time to fold then...don't you think this is enough?" she asked, looking back and forth from Derek to Peter.

"It's getting worse...what are we supposed to do?" asked Derek.

"Leave...we all need to leave here before we all die!" she answered.

Derek looked down. "To where? Eventually this is going to spread past Beacon Hills and you know it. If we don't find a way to stop it here, there won't be any place left to run."

Melissa looked exasperated.

"What about you?" she asked looking at Peter, "Self preservation has always been your strong point. Do you think we should stay too?"

But Peter didn't answer. He just stared into space.

Derek pressed his lips together in a thin line and shrugged.

"You can do what you want to do, Melissa but we're staying. We've got to finish this. And when Scott comes out of this he'll say the same."

She shook her head and drew Scott away.

"We'll see about that," she said as she left.

It was nearly a week before Scott got his bearings. Lydia had already been buried. His mom told him that her parents left town immediately after the service. Melissa wanted to follow their example but true to Derek's word, Scott had disagreed. What was going on in Beacon Hills was his responsiblity. It was up to him to stop it.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

The combination of the memory probe and the emotional toil of the past was causing Scott to tire. The memories were beginning to blur.

"We're almost there," Deaton said into the phone.

"Scott's mom was the first one to be taken just like the seer said...Julia has the others now as well."

Deaton paced back and forth in the examination room.

"Yes...I'm going to make the suggestion tonight...I'm sure he'll agree...no reason for him not to if he thinks it'll save his mom and the parents of his friends."

Deaton's memory faded out and Scott was once again trapped in his own past.

* * *

The kanima was going to be a problem...it now had wings and it appeared to be protecting the Nemeton.

"It must have a master," Scott replied.

Derek nodded his head, "That's what I thought...not much justice against murderers taking place when you're camping out around a tree."

"You think we can get past him?" Scott asked.

"We're going to have to try...if this works it could put an end to all this madness."

Derek poured the purplish substance into the glass containers. A portion of it splashed on the ground and onto Scott's shoe.

"Watch it!" he yelped as he shook the excess off.

Derek half-laughed.

"It's for killing plants, not Nike's," he replied.

"Sorry," Scott said, "I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay...we're both on edge."

"Is Peter coming?" asked Scott trying to take the edge off his nerves.

"He's not ready yet...it's only been a week...he's still adjusting."

Derek avoiding Scott's gaze as he answered but Scott pushed ahead anyway.

"You know I don't like to pry, but it's been bothering me..." Scott began.

"You want to know what was going on between Peter and Lydia," Derek stated bluntly.

Scott looked down and simply said, "Yeah."

"I don't know...there was something...I saw it...you saw it...everybody saw it, but what it was I have no idea. The only thing I could get out of him was that he felt connected to her...who knows maybe he actually was."

Derek clamped down the lids on the containers and nodded to Scott that he was done.

"Small talk over?" Derek asked.

Scott nodded.

"Let's get this done then."

* * *

As Scott approached the Nemeton, he thought of his mom. She should be well out of town by now. Scott had promised to join her as soon as he and Derek were through destroying the Nemeton. He had left out the part about the Kanima guarding it. No need to worry her unnecessarily.

"You want the right or the left?" asked Scott.

"Doesn't really matter...guess I'll take the left," Derek answered.

"Just on the roots right?"

Scott asked for confirmation.

"Yeah...it should be enough, but if we spill too much, we may not have enough to do the job and with that kanima around..."

"I know...a second shot at this might be too dangerous," Scott finished.

Derek nodded at Scott that he was ready and the two of them moved silently and slowly to the Nemeton, with the poison containers in hand.

Sweat broke out on Scott's forehead and he could hear his heartbeat pounding loudly in his chest. They had barely defeated Jackson when he was the kanima and only because of the connection he had with Lydia. They didn't even know who this kanima was and this was no longer an ordinary kanima...over the last week it had become an alpha.

As they reached the tree, Derek turned to Scott and put his finger on his lips. Scott nodded and listened. Silence. If the kanima was near it wasn't moving. Scott put his container down and began to unscrew the lid. Derek squatted down next to the tree on the other side and began to do the same.

They had only gotten the lids halfway off when the creature came screaming out of the bushes. It veered to the left towards Derek who quickly shifted and fled into the brambles. They had arranged it before hand. If the kanima showed up and went after one of them, they would lead it away while the other one poisoned the tree.

Scott wasted no time. Unscrewing the lid, he lifted the container and began to pour the poison around the edge of the tree. The foliage that shaded him from overhead seemed to mock him accusingly.

"How could a stump grow into a tree this size in just two years?" he wondered.

Scott quickly changed containers as he came to Derek's side. With haste, he finished the task. Looking behind him he could see the liquid seeping into the ground as the tree soaked it up.

Scott breathed deeply. No time to waste...he had to find Derek and he had to find him fast.

His let his nose lead him. Down the trail he ran on all fours, bush branches slapping him in the face as he went. Ignoring the pain, he ran like the wind. The freshness of Derek's scent increased as he closed in on his target. He was close and then he stopped dead in his tracks. A new smell assaulted his nostrils...the smell of blood.

Scott froze. He began to shake. He wasn't sure he could take anymore.

Slowly he forced himself to push through the group of bushes that stood between him and the strong smell of blood before him.

Derek lay sprawled out on the ground like a ragdoll...like Lydia, he had cuts running the length of his torso. And like Lydia, his throat had been slashed.

Scott dropped down beside him. His expression was the worst...his face was frozen in a grimace of pain and Scott couldn't imagine the hell he had gone through before the kanima finished him off.

He placed his hand on Derek's forehead and began to weep. His weeping gave way to sobs and his sobs to howls. Scott had lost another one of his brothers. He no longer cared...let the kanima come...let him finish Scott off with the rest of them...very little of it mattered now. But the kanima did not come...it had retreated to the Nemeton to keep guard as it's master had commanded.

The day became night and then day again and Scott finally moved, gathering up the remains of his friend's body and carrying him out of the preserve.


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter has a lot of dialog between Peter and Scott...some of the explanation deals with Lydia's death which I removed from chapter 5. I felt it would be better if Peter was the only one that understood why she did what she did considering their "connection"...so in places this is a little Pydia heavy.

CHAPTER 7

"I can't talk now...Scott and his friends are in the other room," Deaton whispered.

"Yes...everything went according to plan...the ritual has been completed...the Nemeton is reactivated."

Scott tried to focus on Deaton but his grief combined with his confusion was continuing to draw him back into his own mind.

* * *

"Are you sure that you got all the roots?" asked Peter.

"Yes...all of them...We've seen some of the vines die in town...some of the trees as well. Why do we need to return? Just let the poison do it's work." Scott replied.

"It's never that simple, Scott...and you know it," Peter answered, "You've weakened the tree, but it's still drawing the supernatural...it's still alive...it needs to be destroyed once and for all, but first, we have to check its condition."

"Is this about the tree or about Derek and Lydia?" Scott asked bluntly.

Peter's sudden anger was quickly swallowed up by his grief.

"You mean do I want vendetta against that kanima for what it did to them?" he asked.

"The thought had crossed my mind," he replied.

"I don't have it in me...not now...truthfully...I don't think I have much left."

The brutal honesty in the statement shocked Scott.

Peter noticed his expression.

"Obviously, it's the end of the world...I'm being honest," he continued.

The dark circles under the older werewolf's eyes testified to his lack of sleep over the last two weeks.

Scott shook his head.

"Maybe you've just changed over the last two years," he replied.

Peter smirked.

"Don't believe it. I'm still the same werewolf you met in the woods the night you were bitten."

"You've helped us all this time...how can you say that?"

"Because I know me...once the darkness has marked you, you can never go back. I can't go back Scott...I couldn't go back when I came out of that coma 8 years ago...I can't go back now," he answered.

"I don't believe that," Scott replied.

Peter shook his head.

"One day you're going to wake up Scott and take an account of everything you've lost, and it's going to eat away at you until all that's left is that darkness on the inside of you...it's inevitable."

"It doesn't have to be that way," Scott argued.

"In the end you'll be alone like me," Peter continued, "Not really your fault though...you were marked from the beginning."

Scott looked at Peter puzzled.

"What do you mean marked?" he asked.

"Well perhaps not you in particular...It could have just of easily of been Stiles, but it would be one of you regardless," Peter replied.

Scott stared at Peter.

Peter sighed.

"Ill tell you later...after we check out the Nemeton...it's something you need to know anyway and I've kept silent long enough," Peter finished.

* * *

The kanima was nowhere in sight. Peter bent down and began digging at the roots with his claws.

"They're definitely damaged...weakened somewhat, but they don't seem entirely dead."

"Do we need to re-poison them?" Scott asked.

"Maybe..."

This was the first time that Scott and been at the Nemeton with Peter since the alpha had first bit him. The irony was not lost on Scott that in the end the one helping him was Peter Hale.

Peter sighed and sat down under the tree.

"What are you doing? You can't just rest here. The kanima could return any moment now."

"Maybe...maybe not."

"What's wrong with you?" Scott asked shaking his head.

"Nothing really...maybe Lydia's death took more out of me than I thought."

Scott remained silent...mentioning Lydia was not something Peter normally did.

"The connection we had when I was dead never really went away after I came back, you know. Don't get me wrong...I couldn't get into her head like before, but something remained...something lingered. I think it was really the only reason she forgave me...because a part of her could never let go of me."

Scott momentarily forgot the danger of being at the Nemeton. He wanted to understand what was between them.

"Like some sort of empathy or telepathy?" Scott interjected.

"Empathy is a good word...I could feel what she was feeling most of the time...It wasn't until she died that I realized how much I had been feeling was her instead of me. After her passing, I felt dead again...I still do."

"Maybe you're just grieving...I feel it too."

"I've grieved before Scott...I lost my wife and son in the fire...this is not the same thing."

Scott did a double take. He had never heard of a wife or a child.

"I didn't know you had been married," Scott spoke softly.

"Doesn't matter now...feels like a lifetime ago. One thing I've learned over the years is that in this life...the life of a werewolf...more often than not you wind up alone."

Scott shook his head.

"It doesn't have to be that way."

Peter laughed.

"You don't give up do you Scott."

"I don't see why I should," he replied.

"Look at yourself Scott...everyone around you is dead and here you sit with me...the man that once tried to kill you...the man you and my nephew did kill...I would say that both of us are pretty much alone."

"I still have my Mom...she's safe on her way out of Beacon Hills. When this is done, I'll rejoin her, and we'll start over."

"Can you really start over Scott...after all this...after Stiles...Allison...Derek...Lydia?" Peter asked.

His voice dropped at the name of Derek and Lydia.

"I'm not saying I haven't changed, but it doesn't mean that I can't live again once this is over...have a chance at a new life."

"Do you really believe that, Scott...do you even want that anymore...a new life?" Peter prodded.

Scott turned away. Peter was right about one thing...he really didn't want to have a new life...he wanted the one he had...the one with Stiles, Allison, Lydia, and Derek. He wanted Isaac, Kira, Danny and the twins back.

"Stings doesn't it Scott...burns inside...that rage when you lose everything...in the end you'll know what it's like to be me...to be that raging beast I was when you first met me."

"I'll never be like you...not like you were then, and I don't believe your like that now...why didn't you try to kill me...I know you wanted to...why don't you ask yourself that?"

Scott's voice was raising. He hadn't meant to argue with Peter out in the middle of the preserve. The noise could attract the kanima.

"You're right, I did plan to kill you but for some reason I kept putting it off...but don't get your bleeding heart all in a knot over it...I think it had more to do with Lydia's influence than any redemption on my part."

"I think you're selling yourself short," Scott replied.

Peter laughed.

"Rainbows and unicorns...you always want to see the best in people don't you...to hope that in the end there was a reason for all the destruction...that it changed someone's life...cue the violins. The truth is Scott sometimes there is no silver lining. But I will concede your point...perhaps your right...maybe I did change a little. If it were only Lydia that kept me from killing you, what would be keeping me from killing you now."

Scott recognized the truth in his statement but didn't want to dwell on it. The mention of Lydia piqued his interest again and without thinking he spoke.

"Did you love her?"

"What?" asked Peter somewhat confused.

"Lydia...did you love her?" Scott asked again.

Peter dropped his head, "Yeah, I think I did."

Scott was a little surprised that Peter had been so forthcoming but was not surprised at the answer. It was something he had suspected all along.

"I kind of think if I had told her it might have made a difference...you know...with the kanima," Peter offered.

"What do you mean?" asked Scott.

"I'm not saying she didn't care about Aiden, but I don't think that her grieving process had as much to do with him as it did in mourning the loss of a normal life. Everything's been so crazy over the last two years. A high school boyfriend represented normality to her...when Aiden was gone, she had nothing."

"What does that have to do with the Kanima?" asked Scott, puzzled.

"Don't you see Scott? Jackson was also her highschool boyfriend and even more he was the boyfriend she had before everything in Beacon Hills went crazy...when she saw that kanima and thought it was Jackson..."

"she wanted to run back to the one who made everything feel normal again," finished Scott.

Peter nodded. "I'm not in highschool, Scott, but I think I could have been that safe haven for her if I had told her how I felt."

"Why didn't you?" Scott asked, "it had been two months since Aiden died."

Peter shook his head.

"I don't know. Maybe I thought it was too soon...maybe I was afraid of a 18 year old rejecting me...maybe I thought she would bring up the past...all the horrible things I did to her...maybe I was just afraid."

"But you said you could feel what she was feeling...didn't you know how she felt?"

Peter avoided his gaze.

"I believe she felt the same...yes...but there was always the nagging feeling I could have been wrong," he replied.

"I don't think so...she sought you out at Aiden's funeral."

"Ironic huh...she was terrified of me just two short years ago after what I did to her."

"Obviously, She forgave you," Scott observed.

"I guess it doesn't matter now...it's too late," Peter stated.

Scott didn't know what to say and the silence grew between them. Scott listened intently for any signs of the kanima's approach.

"You can't trust Deaton," Peter said suddenly.

Deaton was one of the few people that had chosen to remain in Beacon Hills. Although he stayed out of the main battles that Scott and his friends had faced over the last couple of years, he had always been there to offer useful advice and supplies.

"What do you mean?" asked Scott.

" It took me too long to piece it together...if I had figured it out sooner Derek and Lydia would still be alive."

Scott wanted to drill him for answers. He couldn't believe that Deaton wasn't trustworthy...that he might be hiding something, but Scott didn't get the chance.

The Kanima struck out of nowhere taking down Peter instantly. It had gone directly for his juggler. He lay helplessly trying to hold his bleeding neck as he was slowly losing the use of his hands.

Rage built in the true alpha's body and he sprung head on straight at the kanima without thinking. It flared it's wings but Scott ignored the challenge. He plunged his clawed hand into the chest of the beast and pulled out it's heart. It's carcus dropped to the ground leaving Scott holding a handful of kanima flesh.

"Deaton...he's been lying to you Scott...this entire time...he's been lying."

Scott could hear Peter's whisper in the eerie silence. The weakness and hoarseness of his voice let Scott know he didn't have long.

He sat down beside him and in spite of himself found his eyes filling with tears.

"You can't trust him, Scott...you know what to do...how to find out."

The last words were garbled and barely audible but Scott understood their meaning.

Peter made a rattling sound and breathed his last as a stream of blood poured forth effortlessly from his mouth.

Scott bowed his head and wept bitterly for the man who had turned his world upside down.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Scott had withdrawn his claws. He looked down into the face of the man who was his mentor...the man he called friend. Awake and aware, Deaton looked back.

"It was for the greater good."

Covered in sweat, Scott collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor, directly opposite the vet.

"You needed a true alpha to activate the Nemeton...you wanted it restored from the beginning."

Deaton nodded.

"When the tree was cut years ago a ritual was performed to ensure that it couldn't easily be restored. The true alpha was chosen as the key to restoration. Those who performed the ritual believed that because true alphas were so rare that the opportunity to restore the Nemeton would never present itself."

"There wasn't a way to just make sure it couldn't be reactivated at all?" Scott asked.

Deaton shook his head.

"They chose the best option available for what they were aiming for."

"Who were they?" asked Scott.

Deaton hesitated.

"You said earlier you'd explain...I'm giving you a chance...who were they?"

Deaton actually looked wounded at Scott's tone, but the true alpha couldn't allow himself to give in...he had lost too much...he needed answers.

"They were druids...like me...but a different faction of druids. They believed...differently. They're the ones who cut down the tree and in doing so allowed the world to spiral out of balance."

Scott looked puzzled. He looked around the clinic which mirrored much of the buildings in Beacon Hills. Giant vines broke through the foundation and ran up the walls. Tree branches pushed through the ceiling. If Deaton was insinuating that the Nemeton was the key to restoring the balance, Scott didn't see it. Everything was a mess.

"I don't understand," Scott said, shaking his head.

"Take it all in, Scott...Beacon Hills has returned to nature...to it's roots...man's technology is being swallowed up in the way the world is supposed to be," Deaton said enthusiastically.

"You did all this to get rid of technology?" Scott asked, incredulously.

"I did all this to restore the balance, Scott...this is the way the world is supposed to be...and as a werewolf...you're a part of that world...the natural and the supernatural meshed into one. What has begun here will spread into the surrounding counties and eventually around the world. This is the way it's supposed to be...it's fate, Scott."

Scott couldn't hide his shock.

"You're mad..." the accusation flowed out of his mouth in the form of a whisper.

Even Stiles had voiced his distrust of Deaton, but Scott had dismissed him. How could he have been so blind?

"You let all those people die so the earth could go back to nature?" Scott asked, accusingly.

"Collateral damage, Scott...it was for the greater good."

"The greater good!? Stiles and Allison are dead! Derek and Lydia...dead!...you call the death of my friends the greater good?"

"Their sacrifice was for a good cause," Deaton replied, pleading with his eyes.

Scott shook his head. How far would Deaton go to ensure that his plan succeeded? A deadness came into Scott's heart.

"The kanima at the Nemeton...you were it's master weren't you?" Scott asked,accusingly.

Deaton didn't reply, but Scott recognized it in his eyes. He had indeed been the kanima's master.

Scott rose from the floor and backed out of the clinic leaving his boss tied up.

"Scott!...if you'll just listen to me..."

But Scott didn't listen...he was gone.

* * *

The hysteria rose in his throat. Swallowing hard, he pushed it down.

He glanced briefly at the place Peter's body had lain not more than 12 hours ago. The responsibility of burying him fell to Scott since there was no one left in town to do the job.

Scott didn't say anything when he laid him to rest...his emotions were conflicted. He had never trusted him, but like with Lydia, he felt the two of them had a connection...not that it mattered now.

Scott's gaze moved to the tree that towered over him...in two short years it had become the biggest tree in the perserve.

Scott gunned the engine on the bulldozer. Peter said the roots had been weakened. Scott hoped he was right.

"Nature meet modern day technology!"

Scott drove the dulldozer down on the tree.

* * *

Scott stumbled back towards the clinic. How long had it been? He couldn't remember, but he did know one thing...the tree was destoyed.

He laughed wildly at the thought of it. His voice sounded strange in his own ears.

When it crashed to the ground, He had soaked it in gasoline and set it on fire. Even now he could see the flames in the distance.

"Just a tree...a stupid tree!" he yelled into the wind.

He could also hear the fire engines. Despite the vacancy in Beacon Hills, the perserve was owned by the state. Their fire department would be on hand to put out the flames.

"They may save the forest but the Nemeton is toast," Scott muttered.

Scott almost fell through the clinic door. His clothes were torn and his hair singed. Dirt and ash covered his face and body.

"What have you done, Scott?" asked Deaton.

The vet had been working on the ropes but had been unsuccessful at loosing his bonds.

"Killed your damn tree...that's what I've done," Scott purred.

Deaton shook his head.

"Scott you don't know what you've done. Nature must be balanced...that tree needed to survive."

Scott gave Deaton a look of pity.

To Deaton it didn't look very sincere.

Scott noted the dying vines as he pushed his way into Deaton's office.

"Proof that your tree is gone for good," he said as he went.

"Scott! What are you doing? Let me go!"

Scott turned to face Deaton.

The wild look in the young werewolf's eyes brought a brief look of fear from the vet and then, just as suddenly, he relaxed.

"You're not a killer Scott...I know you," he said calmly.

Scott smiled strangly and raised his hand. In it he was holding a sharpie.

Deaton gazed from the sharpie to Scott's face, looking puzzled.

'A sharpie?...Scott, what do you intend to do with a sharpie?"

"You'll see..." Scott's voice went several octives higher.

Deaton became annoyed.

"Stop this nonsense, Scott...it may not be too late to undo the damage you've done...the Nemeton may yet be saved."

Scott tilted his head and looked at Deaton quizically.

"Oh I'd say it's more than damaged...I'd say it's dead."

"If you'd just let me go...let me check on it..." Deaton continued

"Let you go?!"

Scott smiled madly and shook his head.

"After I left here I needed to think...to try and understand why you did this...why it was so damn important to you. Despite, how I felt about it, I wanted to give you the benifit of the doubt...even after everything I saw in your memories."

Deaton nodded.

"That's good, Scott...better to think it out than to be led by your emotions...you need to do the same thing now...let me go...let me check on the Nemeton."

Scott ignored his interuption and continued.

"I went back to town...to my house...thought I could think better there than anywhere else. Do you know what I found?

"Scott if you would just untie..."

"Do you?!"

Deaton silenced his pleas as he saw Scott's distress. He simply shook his head in response.

Scott stuffed down his hysteria once again as he choked out the words.

"My mom was supposed to leave yesterday morning...I guess she decided to stay. My dad was there. He wasn't even supposed to be in town. I don't know...maybe she called him...thought if they presented a united front they could get me to leave."

Scott paused and looked away sqeezing his eyes tightly to hold back the tears.

"Guess it doesn't matter why they were there but they were...lifeless...bloody...ripped to shreds...I don't even know what kind of creature killed them."

"Scott...I am sorry...you have to believe that," Deaton responded.

Scott was silent.

He held up the sharpie and slammed the point into the wall facing Deaton. Slowly he traced the spiral on the wall.

Looking back at Deaton he asked, "Do you know what this means?"

"It's the werewolf symbol for vendetta," Deaton stated quitely.

Scott towered above his former mentor.

"Scott, I know you...this isn't you," Deaton stated in a final attempt to dissuade his former protegee.

Scott bore down on the man, "You're wrong...this IS me."

Deaton slumped to ground as Scott ripped out his throat.

* * *

EPILOGUE

The boy rarely crossed into the preserve, especially at night, but he had no choice...his car was out of gas. It would be a long walk back to his house, but he didn't care. He had just come from dropping Chelsea Mathis at her house. After six months of trying, she had finally decided to go out with him and the date had been a success. He smiled at the thought of the kiss she had given him before he drove off.

That kiss had put his mind in the clouds...so much so that he hadn't noticed the gas hand.

"Totally worth it," he said out loud.

The darkness seemed oppressive but at least it wasn't like he had heard about in Beacon Hills. People had said things were going horribly wrong there...people either left or they died. Thankfully, that was over 30 miles away.

A chill ran down his spine. He wondered just how big the preserve was.

"At least nothing weird is going on here in Whispering Pines," he mumbled to himself.

The eerie quiet felt oppressive and even Chelsea's kiss faded from his mind. He began to whistle to lift his spirits.

Suddenly, he stopped. "Why is it so quiet?" he wondered.

No birds were chirping...no small animals scurrying...not even an owl hooting in the distance. There was nothing but utter silence.

The boy froze. Through the brush not more than 8 feet away, two red eyes were staring at him.

His palms went sweaty and he felt his heartbeat begin to race.

The creature pounced and the boy felt a tear rip into his leg as he lunged away.

Stumbling forward the boy ignored the pain and pressed forward as fast as he could running towards the path he knew lay ahead. He did not stop to look behind him until he found the light from the nearby ranger station shining down around him.

He turned to look but nothing was there. Slowly, he backed down the path to the ranger station, eventually dissappearing from sight.

Scott watched as the boy retreated from the preserve. Now he would wait. Soon he would have his beta. Soon he would build his pack.


End file.
